


abrading acropolis oculus

by iwanttoseethestars



Series: miscellaneous hannibal poetry [3]
Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Abstract, Canon Compliant, Experimental Style, Extended Metaphors, Free Verse, Hannibal Lecter Loves Will Graham, M/M, No Spoilers, POV Second Person, Pining, Poetry, Post-Episode: s03e13 The Wrath of the Lamb, Season/Series 01, Season/Series 02, Season/Series 03, Stream of Consciousness, time is fake here
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-22
Updated: 2019-08-22
Packaged: 2020-09-24 07:47:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20354911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iwanttoseethestars/pseuds/iwanttoseethestars
Summary: a rock.the sun.his eyes.





	abrading acropolis oculus

flickering looks that

gradual/immediately

turn long/ing

elementally, innately,

inexplicably.

he laughs and it’s low and bitter and it crumbles in your hands and falls through your fingers and you want to make it _stronger_.

to make it linger

like his looks

though their grace be al/together pinioned with

_“Hello,_ Dr Lecter_”_—

you / _you_ were so close, so close, so

close

yourself off

your mind,

but never your eyes.

look — know — _see_.

_you_ might never ever be

a smooth composition, a harmony alive, walking, running through dust. through snow. through water salt and naught else, through sands that don’t fall through your fingers.

you’ll keep drawing lines until you reach the earth’s core

to / for him

so hot they won’t be washed away

ever

again.

the moon has delicate deceiving hands that turn the tide but

the sun is a masculine eye that

sees everyone but no one at all can look back.

who might he be?

in the midst of every

word

thought

feeling

action

what does he truly _see_?

pencil lines visceral

drawn arterial

blood.

_“—or, is that a burst vein?”_

inside, you laugh.

(louder, and livelier, granted from a / this cosmic entity, paragon of fore/in/hindsight celestial. he transcends, but does not ascend. and your design is that you deign only to help: to sow the seeds of some great and glorious towering plant that might wind to form a ladder that might only break if its burden be too much / not enough to bear.)

but he sees it in your eyes.

before he even knows it

he _sees_ you.

his gaze is a teetering teacup made of stone

— you drink in

long/ing

whatever you find, strangely feeling not quite so alone —

and you, _you_ are the bedrock from which he comes

from which he falls away

until time reverses itself.

you / _you_ the rock / sand you walk upon

tide no longer deceiving

you / _you_ can look into the sun finding naught but you /

_you_.

**Author's Note:**

> ... and it's our third Hannibal poem~!  
*cheers and celebrations; the writer lives to write another day*  
this was a fairly quick write — my muse was kind this time 'round. i was about to go into a full-on parade about ~the p r o c e s s~ and whathaveyou, but then i remembered y'all are not babies and no one has time for that.  
so! i come with news instead (fingers crossed)! i currently have three, fairly fleshed-out Hannibal projects in the works:
> 
> 1) an S1 canon divergence piece  
2) a potentially multi-chapter, autistic Will Graham AU *happy aspie blushing*  
3) an S2 piece with a working title of 'Hannibal loves'
> 
> i must admit, it's a little nervewracking to announce WIPs all willy-nilly like this. BUT. i need you, beautiful readers, to know that i'm around, still writing things, even though i can't goddamn POST any of it yet. and so i graciously thank the medium of poetry for saving me once again.  
and also, of course, i thank YOU! <3  
your hits knock my socks off. your kudos make my heart race. your comments leave me speechless.  
( ... i very much like comments. :3 )
> 
> lots of love,  
author san. x


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